


Soft

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, M/M, Quarantine, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, lockdown - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Sherlock's been putting on weight during lockdown, and he's worried John won't like him this way.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 32
Kudos: 204





	Soft

**Author's Note:**

  * For [796116311389](https://archiveofourown.org/users/796116311389/gifts).



> Much thanks to beltainefaerie for the beta

The year had been interminable. Quarantine and lockdown had rendered the city unusually quiet. He'd taken a few walks through nearly empty streets, but it was so strange to see London this way that staying in almost was preferable.

John was very busy with the clinic, of course, which meant Sherlock was home alone for much of the time. Lestrade had sent over some cold cases but he ended up spending much of his time with Mrs. Hudson.

Mrs. Hudson had apparently caught the baking bug and was more than happy to share what she made with Sherlock. Sherlock had helped her get a sourdough starter going and the smell of fresh bread often wafted through Baker Street these days.

So perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising when, one day, Sherlock went to pull on a pair of pants and found them far too tight. Frowning, he'd gone to look in the mirror.

While he hadn't quite reached Mycroftian levels of heft, there was a definite roundness to some of his features. The sharp hipbones had been softened and he was carrying a bit of a belly. Frowning at himself he quietly resolved to perhaps do a bit of exercise when he returned from Mrs. Hudson's. In the meantime, he pulled a looser pair of trousers from the back of the closet.

Lockdown restrictions eased and Sherlock quietly ordered some new clothes, ones that he hoped would conceal the extra weight. He missed John but at the same time he was glad that he was far too busy to do much more than crawl into bed and sleep when he got home. Sherlock's resolve to eat fewer cookies and do more pushups never quite came to pass.

Then, disaster. Or at least, potential disaster. John came home looking a little worried. "Need to quarantine for two weeks," he told Sherlock. Sighing, he looked around the flat. "I suppose I could go stay at a hotel or something."

"Nonsense," said Sherlock. "There's no reason not to stay here. Besides, if you've been exposed to something, then more than likely I have, too."

John smiled and leaned in to kiss him. "Two weeks with you after the last few months sounds perfect. Hopefully, neither of us are sick, and it's just a precaution."

"You need to rest, anyway," said Sherlock.

"Fine, but I'm not spending two weeks in bed if I don't have to. Well, not unless you're joining me." John smiled and put his hand on Sherlock's bottom.

Sherlock bit his lip, thinking of how much rounder he'd become. "Not at the moment," he said, leaning in to kiss him again and then stepping away before John could notice the softness under his hand. "As we're going to be stuck here, I need to tend my own sourdough starter."

John chuckled and covered a yawn. "Alright. Well, I'm going to nap."

Sherlock watched him go, then threw himself onto the sofa. Was it simply Mrs. Hudson's baking? A function of growing older? A lack of exercise? All of the above, probably. Well, no need to put John off with his rotundness.

The next few days were fairly quiet. Sherlock did his best to give John attention when they were together in the living room, but he avoided sleeping too close to him at night and acted oblivious to John's more amorous overtures. It hurt his own heart to do so, but how could John want him if he knew the truth?

Everything came to a head one evening when Sherlock stepped out of the shower, his robe tied around his waist.

John leaned in to kiss him, hands going for the tie. 

"John," murmured Sherlock, catching him before he could pull it loose.

Frowning, John stepped back. "You've been avoiding me."

Sherlock looked away. "It's nothing to do with you," he said quietly.

"If you don't want to have sex, you know that's fine. But it's something else, isn't it?"

Sighing, Sherlock found something to look at on the shelf. "You wouldn't want me like this," he muttered.

John cocked his head. "Like what?"

"I've put on a noticeable amount of weight over the last few months," said Sherlock, finally looking back at him.

"Yeah, you have. I probably have too. I don't mind, Sherlock. Really. I still want you and I still think you're the most gorgeous man I've ever met."

Sherlock was surprised. John wasn't always the most observant person, but then again, they did live together and it had been close quarters for the last few days.

John took advantage of his confusion and stepped closer again, sliding his hands under Sherlock's robe. "I love you and I want you," he murmured. 

"You mean that," said Sherlock, unable to keep the wonder out of his voice.

John smiled. "Course I do." He withdrew his hands and reached for the tie on Sherlock's robe again.

This time Sherlock didn't stop him, barely resisted the urge to cover himself up with his hands or the robe.

"Gorgeous," repeated John, leaning in to kiss Sherlock's chest, hands stroking across his skin, slipping slowly to his knees and nuzzling Sherlock's belly and hips and thighs.

Sherlock braced himself against the doorway as John kissed the tip of his cock. "You don't think I'm hideous," he breathed.

"Not at all," promised John, looking up at him.

Sherlock leaned down and tugged him back to his feet, kissing him hard, months of pent up want springing to life all at once.

John smiled against his mouth and gently pushed him back towards the bedroom, sliding the robe off Sherlock's shoulders and leaving it pooled on the floor of the hall.

Sherlock landed on his back on the bed. John was looking at him raw hunger and need as he quickly stripped out of his own clothes. "Beautiful," breathed John, climbing into bed with him and worshiping every curve of Sherlock's body with lips and hands.

Moaning softly, Sherlock found himself helpless under John's desire, spreading his thighs open with need. John whispered compliments into his skin, words Sherlock couldn't quite hear but understood all the same.

"I want you," John repeated, kissing his lips before reaching for the lube they kept beside the bed.

"I'm yours," breathed Sherlock, eyes closing as John pressed a finger into him, clearly wanting to take his time.

John kept kissing him as he worked him open, slipping his tongue into Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock groaned and arched up against him, losing himself in the familiar sensations of John. It had been far too long and they had time to make up.

Finally, John withdrew his fingers. He lay down next to Sherlock and guided him over. Sherlock hesitated as he straddled John's waist, knowing John could see everything.

"Beautiful," repeated John, cupping his hips. "Come on, ride me."

That was all the motivation Sherlock needed, groaning softly as he bore down on John's cock.

John took Sherlock in hand as he settled, making Sherlock gasp with pleasure. After so long without John's touch, he knew it wouldn't take long.

Moaning softly, Sherlock came all at once, his body jerking with the release, John groaning as Sherlock squeezing around him.

When Sherlock cracked an eye open a few minutes later, he saw John licking come off his hand, watching him. Sherlock leaned down to kiss him, slipping his tongue into John's mouth.

John rolled them over, pushing up Sherlock's knees, taking him hard. Maybe Sherlock couldn't bend in quite the same way he had before, but there was still plenty of room for John to chase his own climax, turning his head to kiss Sherlock's calf.

It was heaven. It was bliss. Sherlock felt warm with the knowledge that John did want him, just like this, no matter his body's shape.

John groaned as he came, thrusting erratically, finally, carefully, letting Sherlock's legs down. He lay on Sherlock's chest, kissing him gently as his heart rate slowed.

Sherlock ran a hand through John's hair. "Thank you."

John smiled and raised his head. "Thank you for letting me see you. I love you."

"I love you, too," said Sherlock, feeling the truth of it down to his very bones.

"Let's take shower," said John. "I don't think I'm quite done showing you how beautiful you are."

Sherlock smiled back. "I'm looking forward to it."

John carefully pulled out, took Sherlock's hand and led him into the en suite. For once Sherlock didn't even glance at the mirror. There was no need to; John was here and he loved him no matter what.


End file.
